Life And Death In Rebel Prisons; Giving A Complete History Of The Inhuman And Barbarous Treatment…

Paperback | May 14, 2012

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This historic book may have numerous typos and missing text. Purchasers can download a free scanned copy of the original book (without typos) from the publisher. Not indexed. Not illustrated. 1865 Excerpt: ...but they were the solemn realities of our prison life, as will be abundantly confirmed by hundreds of others. I had a feeling quite in sympathy with that of the immortal poet, when he wrote, "But that I am forbid To tell the secrets of my prison-house, I could a tale unfold, whose lightest word Would harrow up thy soul; freeze thy young blood; Make thy two eyes, like stars, start from their spheres; Thy knotted and combined locks to part, And each particular hair to stand on end, Like quills upon the fretful porcupine." A number of cavalry-men were captured in the attack upon Macon, and found their way to our dwelling place, or rather had it found for them, on the 2d of the month, it now being August. The city was receiving a brisk shelling when they left, and they reported Maj. Gen. Stoneman taken, with a number of his men. Thus did we obtain an occasional glimpse of the battling world in which we were deeply interested, and in this way experienced a slight disturbance in the even tenor of our thoughts, that otherwise might have found themselves tending to stagnation. Coming in contact with one of the boys who had an old Bible, I found upon the back part of it, in almost obliterated characters, the following lines, which I thought worthy of preservation, although ignorant of the authorship. It was certainly richly suggestive of that holy tenderness of love, that sometimes dwells in the heart like a fragrant flower, which blesses with its sweetness those who come nearest to it: "Forget thee? If to dream by Night, and muse on thee by day; If all the worship deep and wild, A sister's heart can pay; If prayers ascend for thee To Heaven's protecting power; If winged thoughts that fleet, To thee, a thousand in an hour; If busy fancy blending thee ...